


The Stand-in

by kanjiklubgottold



Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Nude Modeling, discussion of penii, life art AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-05
Updated: 2016-06-12
Packaged: 2018-07-12 13:17:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,833
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7106404
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kanjiklubgottold/pseuds/kanjiklubgottold
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Finn has walked out on his dead-end job and needs some quick cash to tide him over, so his sick roommate suggests he fill in for  him as the model for a life-art class.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Desperate Times ....

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! I'm basing this on an actual life art figure-drawing class I took ages ago. It may grow one more chapter if I do an epilogue. Long live Finnrey!

Poe Dameron sneezed wetly as he groped for the box of tissues on his nightstand. After blowing his nose for what seemed like hours, he turned bleary, watery eyes to the man standing at his bedside.

“I swear to you, it’ll be a piece of cake. No problem at all! Uh … did you get all the stuff I asked for? I don’t see the cough drops.”

Finn Artorian sighed, unearthed a yellow cylinder, and handed it over.

“I don’t know, Poe. I mean the money sounds good, but it’s … well, _you_ know …”

“Yeah, I _know_. I’ve been doing it nearly a year.” Poe blew his nose again. “I fucking _hate_ colds. Thanks for getting the honey-lemon flavor, by the way. The cherry tastes like ass. And speaking of ass …”

“ _Poe_.”

“Kidding. Only, not.” Poe struggled up to a seated position on his bed. “Okay, look, it’s dead simple, buddy. An hour of posing in the buff. No big. A few twists and turns, and you walk out $300 richer. Three hundred for barely an hour of work? Now you tell me where you can find a job that pays as much where all you have to do is get naked?”

“Do you _really_ want me to answer that?” Finn’s incredulous tone was drowned out by a sudden wracking cough from Poe. “Fuck, you sound really bad. Are you sure you shouldn’t go to the urgent care center or something? You have insurance.”

Poe fluttered one hand above the bedsheets. “Nah, they’ll just do what they always do – look in my ears, down my throat, make me piss in a cup, take some blood, leave me ass-out in one of those stupid gowns for five hours, then come back and tell me to take some Nyquil. It’s a _cold_. I know I look and sound like shit, but I’ll be fine. Now, anyway, back to tonight: You’d really be helping my friend out of a bind as well as making some quick cash. Rey hates having to cancel classes.”

Finn chewed his lip. When Poe, looking like death on a unicycle, had stumbled in that night mumbling about having to cancel his night gig, it had taken Finn a few moments to remember his roommate’s “second job,” as it were, as a nude model for a weekly life art class at an arts center in the neighborhood.

Poe had never really discussed it, and Finn had never thought to ask, figuring that what Poe did in his free time to supplement his income was his business. And even that night, as concerned as he was for Poe’s health, Finn had been a bit busy worrying about how he was going to survive the next week while waiting for his final paycheck from his (thankfully) former employers.

Finn had still been puzzling about how he could quickly make a few extra dollars while looking for a new job when he’d run out to the drugstore to get some supplies for his sick roommate, who had been doing his level best to cough up a lung. When he’d returned, Poe was under his covers, breathing hard, but with that **I Have an Idea** ™ twinkle in his dark eyes that Finn had come to know and fear.

And then he’d opened his mouth.

After coughing painfully for a second or two, Poe had come out with the suggestion that Finn, who was Poe’s height and roughly his build, could sub for him that night at his modeling gig. He’d apparently already called the person in charge of the class and gotten the go-ahead for the switch. All Finn had to do was show up and drop his pants, and he’d emerge roughly two hours later several hundred dollars richer.

Finn had known Poe wasn’t joking – he was too sick for that – but what had stunned him even more was that he was actually considering doing it. His bank account was pretty much on E, and he knew that those assholes at First Order Inc. were going to jerk him around as much as possible in the matter of his final paycheck, especially as he’d left without giving the requisite two weeks’ notice.

Finn didn’t want lean on Poe too much, as that just wasn’t fair. He also didn’t want to turn to his other friends for handouts. Three hundred bucks would solve a lot of his short-term problems, and if all he needed to do was model a little, albeit in the nude … well …

“I’d really just have to stand there?” Finn asked, trying to get comfortable with the idea. “Like in the movies, where you have the models come out and they’re just literally standing there in the middle of a circle of people who have sketchbooks and everything?”

“Pretty much. You’ll be on a platform, standing half the time, sitting the other half. Nothing weird, painful or obscene.”

“ _Obscene_?” Finn eyed Poe critically. “Where’d _that_ come from? What’s really going on? Are you sure all I have to do is _pose_?”

“What, you think I’m doing something _else_ on Wednesday nights that requires me to take my underwear off in front of strangers?” Poe rolled his eyes. “You think you’re going to show up and say you’re subbing for me and they’ll go ‘Poe Dameron? Ohhhh, you mean _Peen Ramithome_! Yeah, he’s our top male talent. Uh, sure you can take his place, we’re shooting an Eiffel tower scene tonight. You want front or back?’”

Finn stared. “That seems _way_ too detailed for you to be kidding about it.”

“That’s the Nyquil starting to kick in.” A filmy smile stretched his face. “It’s _art_ , Finn. These are _artistes._ They’re there to get a feel for drawing the human form. Nothing else. All perfectly natural. _Very_ natural, in fact.” He waggled his eyebrows. “It’s like any other modeling, really.”

“I guess.” Finn’s voice was doubtful. “But, I mean, it’s not like modeling _clothes_. They’ll be, you know, _staring_ at … things …”

“Your ass? Yeah. They’ll be staring at that. To _draw_ it. Because, you know, _art class,_ and all?”

“Not just my ass,” said Finn, feeling his face get warm. “ _Other_ stuff. Like –”

“Your cock?” Poe snickered. “Okay, look, buddy, I might as well tell you this now. The one thing you absolutely, positively _must_ do if you do take this gig, is get over yourself.”

“Huh?”

“Listen, you’re hot and everything, Finn, but believe me – these people aren’t paying four grand a semester just to have a chance to gawk at a random dick once a week,” said Poe. “This is 2016. If that’s what they were into, they could go online and see 300 dicks in, like, under a minute on Pornhub.”

“Sounds like _someone’s_ been doing some research.”

“Hey, how do you think I fill my time at work in between refits?” Poe grinned briefly before getting back down to business. “Seriously, though – and I mean this with love – you and your dick are just not that special to any of these people. You’re a means to an end for them. They are taking a class on drawing the human form. _You_ just happen to be the human form in front of them that they will need to draw in whatever style they feel represents their artistic talent. They _will_ stare at your ass, your dick and your balls – and also your arms, your legs, your thighs, your shoulders, your clavicles, your stomach, your elbows, your …”

“Okay, okay, I get it.” Finn sighed and shook his head. “Yeah, fine. I’ll do it. Three hundred dollars’ll buy me a transit card for the month and I can pay my cellphone bill so I’ll be able to answer calls just on the off chance someone wants to hire me. If those assholes at FOI don’t cut my check by the end of this week, there’s gonna be hell to pay.” His hand closed into a tight fist. “But this money would tide me over. And this beats selling plasma.”

“By a mile.” Poe reclined gingerly on the pillows. “Okay, cool. You’ll be fine. Rey’s awesome. She’ll probably be super-nice to you because you’re really getting her out of a bind. The guy who runs the school, some dickcheese named Plutt, is always downing her whenever something goes wrong.”

Finn nodded absently. He knew just how it could be when you didn’t get on with the boss. He didn’t envy this Rey person having to deal with what sounded like a raging douche. There seemed to be a plethora of that type in the city, and for whatever reason, they all seemed to be in positions of authority.

“Rey’ll explain the whole setup when you get there,” said Poe. “Just the rules of the road and everything, nothing fancy.”

“Okay. And the payment is in cash, you said? Right afterward?”

“You will have three hundred-dollar bills in your hot little hand the minute class is over and you put your clothes back on,” said Poe, sniffling a bit. “My eyes are getting heavy and I can breathe a little better. … God bless Nyquil …”

“I better get going then. The class starts at 8, right? It’s a little after 7:15 now.”

Finn turned toward the door, stopped after a second, and turned back.

“Poe?”

“Yeah?”

“Uh … you ever ...” Finn swallowed hard, trying to frame the words delicately. “I mean, you know, in the middle of one of these things, you ever … uh …”

“Have to piss? Nah. There’s a break during the class, so it’s not like you’ll have to hold it the whole time.” Poe’s voice was drowsy. “Definitely try to go beforehand, though. Drink some water on the way or something.”

“No – I mean, yeah, that’s good advice, but I wasn’t …” Finn took a breath. “I’m just wondering, have you ever gotten … well … standing there naked and in front of people maybe you find attractive. Have you ever ...?”

“What?” Poe was suddenly alert. “Gotten turned on?”

“Uh. Yeah,” Finn mumbled and looked away from Poe’s shining eyes. “I mean, it conceivably could happen, right? And that’d be embarrassing as fuck –”

“It _could_ happen, I guess, but it’s unlikely, and it’s never happened to me.”

Finn raised his head. “Seriously?”

“Never. Yeah, there’re some good-looking people there, but you’re going to not really be looking at them much anyway. There’s some eye-contact rule that I’d explain if I weren't about to pass out, but Rey’ll tell you.”

“Oh. Uh … okay then –”

“Plus, there is nothing remotely sexy about this, believe me. You’ll be concentrating on holding your position, Rey walks around to see what everybody’s doing and she’s not shy about correcting someone who isn’t doing what they’re supposed to be doing, so there’ll be a lot of art chatter going on, you _will_ itch in like half a dozen places, your feet will probably fall asleep at some point, and it is cold as _fuck_ in that room, always. If, under those conditions, you manage to spring a boner, then, my dude, you truly _are_ one of a kind.”

“All right, all right, I get the picture. Just figured I’d ask.” Finn gave Poe another once-over. “You sure you’re gonna be okay here by yourself? Want me to bring anything back? More ginger ale, more cough drops?” He doubted Poe needed any more Nyquil.

“Nah, I just need sleep.” Poe’s voice was drowsy. “Jess said she might stop by to look in on me, but I just want to rest. I’ll be okay. Thanks for doing this, Finn. You’re a good man.”

“Yeah. Sure.” Finn’s brow creased. “Wait a minute … you said it’s cold in the classroom where people’ll be drawing and I’ll be posing? Just _how_ cold, because, uh, you know, when it's really cold, _things_ tend to shrink a little …”

Poe laughed softly, waving a tissue in a gesture of farewell.

“Break a leg, buddy. And tell Rey I said hi!”

* * *

 

The evening was calm and cool – perfect walking weather, which came as a relief to Finn, since his transit card had expired the day before and he really didn’t want to dip into his meager resources to get the bus or the light rail.

Walking, too, gave him a chance to really think through what he was about to do, and get his head in the game, so to speak.

Now that he’d decided to go ahead with the modeling job, he didn’t want to embarrass Poe or himself. He was partly reassured that he’d be all right. One thing about having been in the Army so long was being used to communal showers, no privacy, and pretty much constant incidental nudity. Finn was no exhibitionist, but he’d soon managed to get with the program, and it wasn’t a big deal. Precisely zero people cared. It just was what it was.

As he walked, he tapped into the memories of that time, trying to get back into that mindset. Just a bit of tasteful nudity. No big deal. One hour of his life and he’d never have to do it again. He exhaled slowly, soothing words of confidence looping in his brain. He could do this. It would be fine. Poe knew he was desperate for some cash and he likely didn’t want to jeopardize his gig or get his friend in trouble, but he wouldn’t have suggested this if he thought there was something sketchy about it. It was all good. Relax. _Relax_.

The neighborhood in which he and Poe lived was still considered “transitional” by most standards, and as Finn turned a corner, he was hit full in the face by the bright street lights of Coruscant Avenue, known simply as **The Avenue** by most locals. The busy thoroughfare was the demarcation line of the less-affluent neighborhoods and those that had been transformed by gentrification. The Avenue was also the main shopping drag and hangout for disaffected hipsters nostalgic for 2008 and their customized Converses and Fixies.

He slowed his steps, glancing in the storefronts of a wine bar, a Cypriot tapas restaurant, a bakery that specialized in macarons, and a gourmet grocery store. At the corner, looking almost out of place in comparison to the buildings around it, was a squat, grey building.

Finn blinked at it, checked Google maps, and saw that this building was, indeed, the Coruscant Avenue Art Shoppe – his destination.

It looked almost deserted, though Finn could see a light shining in the window of one of the upper levels. It was original construction – had been a leatherworking factory, according to the bronze plaque on the side of the building – and it almost had the grungy, faded look of one of those rundown tenements that had been refashioned into studio space for up and coming artists.

Finn was reasonably sure, though, that a place that charged thousands per semester and could afford to pay a model hundreds for a couple hours of their time wasn’t catering to the starving artist set.

And the minute he found the simple **CAAS** in red, metalwork letters and the small door beneath it, Finn knew he’d been right. Stepping inside was almost like stepping into a museum, complete with Ionic columns and polished marble floors. It was larger than it appeared on the outside, and Finn wondered if the windows were tinted or something because it was fairly brightly lit, with modern-looking stalk-light lamps lining the corridors.

Finn saw doors on either side of a long, marble highway. He supposed they were the classrooms, but he saw no one walking around and heard nothing aside from his own footsteps. There was a reception desk a little off to the side of the main corridor that looked deserted, but as Finn approached, he heard a slight rustle of paper coming from somewhere behind the polished mahogany.

Behind the desk was exactly the sort of woman Finn would have expected to work in such a place. She had short gray hair, and her dark suit and horn-rimmed glasses practically screamed standard-issue upscale receptionist.

She looked up as he approached, her eyes alert and friendly. 

“Good evening, sir, welcome to the Art Shoppe. May I help you?”

“Uh, yeah, hi.” Finn cleared his throat. “I’m looking for Ms. Rey Organsky? She teaches life art here, and I’m a model – er, a substitute model for her regular guy. He’s sick tonight.”

“I see.” The woman nodded. “Your name, sir? I’ll tell Ms. Organsky you’re here.”

“Oh, right. Finn. Finn Artorian.”

The woman nodded and picked up the phone. As she spoke, Finn squinted down the hall, trying to pick up any signs of movement. It was eerily quiet, and that made some of his initial nervousness return. Obviously this was the right place, but he’d assumed this would be as busy as any of the other storefronts on The Avenue. But it was almost like a ghost town.

He wondered if the regular class participants had somehow heard that Poe was sick and decided not to show up. What if only one or two students attended? What if _no one_ showed up? Not only would that be embarrassing as hell, but there went that nice payday - and just when he’d resigned himself to losing his shorts.

The woman hung up the phone and smiled up at him.

“Room 102, sir. All the way back and to the left. Ms. Organsky is expecting you.”

“Uh, thanks.” Finn looked at her. “Is it always so quiet in here? I thought it might be a little … busier.”

“Oh yes, this is normal. Most of our classes are over by 7,” she said, “Ms. Organsky’s class is the latest and then we close up at 10. There are some students that have private studio spaces upstairs and they are allowed to stay until midnight or so.”

“Oh.” Finn felt marginally better. “Back and to the left? Thanks.”

The woman hadn’t been lying. Each door he passed was dark and shut up tight. But as he reached the end of the corridor, he could hear faint sounds. Almost at the very end of the hallway, one door was slightly ajar, throwing a slice of light on the polished marble hallway.

Finn took a deep breath. This was it. He was there. And at least one person was waiting.


	2. Confab

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Finn meets Rey, gets a rundown of the ground rules, and speaks up about a hidden concern.

Even though the door was open – sort of – Finn felt it was good manners to knock anyway. Part of it was his desire to get a few extra seconds to gather himself before he reached the point of no return, and the other part was that he could hear what sounded like voices within.

At his knock, the sounds abruptly stopped, and the face of a young woman with suddenly appeared in the crack. He couldn’t see much, but he noticed she had a cellphone up to her ear. She'd turned it slightly inward so that the person on the other end wouldn’t get the full brunt of her exchange with the person who had interrupted them.

“Um, Ms. Organsky?”

“Hi. Finn, right? Poe’s friend? Call me Rey.” She opened the door wider. “Come on in. I’ll be with you in a second.”

Finn nodded and she stepped aside to let him enter. If he'd been subconsciously expecting something unusual due to the "special" nature of the class, he was disappointed. The space was set up like almost every other classroom he’d ever been in, complete with a whiteboard at the front and what looked to be an old-fashioned slide projector set up in the middle of the floor.

There were no desks, but there was a ring of wooden chairs arranged around a raised platform. Finn supposed that would be his “stage.” There were a few items already on the platform – a mound of sheets, a quiver and bow, a footstool, some goat horns -

_Uh … wow. Interesting …_

\- And a small, orange chaise longue that had been pushed to the very edge of the platform almost as an afterthought. As Finn took in his surroundings, Rey had resumed her conversation at his back. He wasn’t sure who she was talking to, but she sounded as if the phone call had gone on a few minutes too long for her liking.

In taking a look around the room, Finn was able to cast a few surreptitious glances at Rey Organsky. He supposed it was a function of some of the bad TV movies he’d watched where life art classes were used as a theme generally played for laughs, with the teachers of such courses depicted as the aging hippie, ex-starving artist type, urging people to embrace the color of their auras and enjoy the "inherent beauty of the human form" and all.

As a result, Finn had pictured Rey as a less frazzled-looking Professor Trelawney from the Harry Potter books/movies. Maybe a little older or younger. Maybe with or without the glasses.

Not quite.

Rey was probably around his age, or even a bit younger, and looked much like a student herself. She was only a tick or two shorter than he was, and had the trim, compact build of a swimmer or maybe a gymnast. Possibly she and Emma Thompson’s version of Trelawney had the same color hair, and also had the accent going, though Rey’s was not as timorous as the movie version of Trelawney's had been, but that’s where the resemblance ended.

Not that Emma Thompson as herself was any slouch, but Rey was quite possibly one of the most beautiful women Finn had ever seen in real life. There was a delicate, almost elfin, prettiness to her features, emphasized by dark hair swept away from that lovely face in a series of graduated buns. He glimpsed her in his periphery and rethought his assessment of her physique. Maybe she was a dancer. She looked like every idealized version of a prima ballerina that he’d ever seen in movies or on TV.

Finn wondered why Poe had acknowledged that there would likely be some attractive students in the course while leaving out the part about the _teacher_ being hot as fuck. Poe wasn’t a horndog or a player, but he was usually pretty vocally admiring of attractiveness of any and all sorts –

 _He didn’t tell you because it doesn’t matter, dumbass._ Finn shut his eyes as he allowed his more rational side to berate his baser self. _You’re here to do a job, not try to hook up!_

Finn quickly turned away and pretended to study the goat horns a bit closer as Rey continued her conversation behind him.

“… Right, well I suppose I can do next Thursday. I was planning on editing B-roll then, but I can reschedule … yes … no, I understand. I appreciate it. Right … just me. Thanks again, Mr. Calrissian. Yeah, class is starting soon and my model just got here. Uh-huh, tell him I said hi. ‘Bye. … Sorry about that.”

It took Finn a second to realize that the last bit was directed toward him. He turned around, and saw Rey powering down her cell before tucking it into the pockets of a large painter’s smock daubed with dark, shiny splotches.

“I usually turn my phone off the minute I get in the classroom,” said Rey. “But I’m working on a project that requires a bunch of expensive equipment that’s kind of out of my budget right now. My uncle has a friend who’s willing to lend it to me, but it’s been hard to get our schedules to match. Anyway, it’s good to meet you.”

She held out a hand, drawing it back sharply when she noticed that she had paint stains there, too.

“ _Damn_. I thought I’d washed this all off. It’s been a little hectic tonight. I’m usually a lot more organized than this.”

“It’s okay. I’m a little early.” Finn felt unaccountably shy under Rey’s gaze. Her eyes were light brown, almost gold. Like cats’ eyes. “If you wanted me to just, um, chill out here …”

“It’s perfect you got here early, actually," she said. "I actually called Poe back to ask him if you could come about 15 minutes before class and he said you’d already left. Let’s go back to my office.”

Rey waved toward a dark opening at the back of the room that Finn had assumed was some sort of supply closet. “I can give you a rundown on the class and answer any questions. You’ll change back there, too, and you can leave anything valuable in my desk. It locks.”

He followed her to the dim room at the back, vaguely surprised to see that when Rey flicked on the light, it was a very comfortable-looking space with a paper-strewn desk in the middle, a few chairs, bookshelves on three walls, and pencil sketches tacked up in between the bookcases. Finn wasn’t sure whether to be surprised or relieved that none of the sketches were nudes of Poe – or anyone else, for that matter. They were mainly full-face portraits done in pencil with a few full-body sketches thrown in for variety.

Finn gazed at a few of the pictures – some of the faces looked familiar, but he wasn’t able to immediately place anyone.

Rey excused herself briefly and went through a small door in back of the desk. Finn heard water running and could see Rey’s vague outline bending over a sink. She came out a few moments later, wiping her hands on a towel.

“I was helping out in an acrylics landscape workshop earlier today,” she said, draping the towel over her shoulder when she finished drying her hands. “I guess I should just be grateful I didn’t get any on my clothes. It never completely washes out.”

She smiled wearily at him. “Mind if we do this all over again? Hi, it’s nice to meet you. I’m Rey.”

“Finn.” He couldn’t help but grin as he shook her clean, slightly damp hand. “Good meeting you, too. Thanks for, uh, having me.”

“No thanks necessary. You’re doing _me_ the favor.”

Rey released him and stepped back, raking him with an assessing gaze. Finn squirmed a little, not quite feeling uncomfortable … not quite sure _what_ he was feeling, being picked apart by those remarkable eyes. Her examination of him wasn’t dehumanizing or intrusive, but Finn had a sense that she was comparing him to some invisible standard. He only hoped he measured up.

If he’d been naked already and she’d been looking at him like that, he might’ve thought she was measuring something _else_. He was fairly sure, though, that Rey likely had private thoughts about such things, but wouldn’t openly gawk at his cock while he was posing for her students.

Suddenly, she smiled.

“Poe was right. The two of you are practically the same height and body type. You’re more muscular than he is, but that’ll be a nice challenge for tonight.”

Finn tried not to preen, but he was glad Rey had noticed that, even with his clothes on. He liked to keep in shape, and his gym time had kept him sane through all the garbage he’d gone through at FOI.

And while he loved Poe like brother, he didn’t exactly have the same dedication to fitness. His idea of leg day was squatting down to pick up a bag of Funyuns that had fallen on the floor.

“Poe mentioned that this would work because we’re not too far off in build and height,” said Finn. “But I kinda thought that life art classes would want, um, some diversity, so people can get a feel for different anatomies and all. Isn't that sort of the point of drawing from life?”

“In part, but not every class that uses a live model – clothed or nude – is structured the same or has the same goals for the students,” said Rey. “This is a skills course. Everyone starts off drawing the model to the best of their ability. As the semester goes along, they draw the model in different poses and attitudes. So at the end of the course, they’re able to see their progress in drawing that same model over a period of time.”

She studied him. “Are you an artist?”

“Me?” Finn almost laughed. “Oh, uh, no. Not even remotely. Why?”

“That was a good question – the kind someone who has some sort of artistic background usually asks. Most people take it for granted that these sort of classes always use just one type of model.” She folded her arms. “Anything else you want to know before I give you _the talk_?”

“ _The talk_?” Finn raised a brow. “You make it sound like a pronouncement of doom.”

“That’s what they pay me for.” Rey half-smiled and glanced at her watch. “Yeah, we’ve got plenty of time. Even the early birds won’t be here for another 10 minutes or so. You can sit down if you wanted. You’re going to be doing a lot of standing, so get off your feet when and while you can.”

Finn settled in a chair right in front of the desk. Rey half-perched on a corner of the desk and leaned toward him, her eyes fixed on his.

“How much did Poe tell you?”

Finn thought about Poe’s helpful commentary on using the bathroom before going out there, and realized he hadn’t taken his friend’s advice to drink some water on the way.

“Not very much. He said it would be better if you explained everything.”

“Fair enough.” She sounded satisfied. “Well, this is a 90-minute class, but you’re only going to be active for 60 of those minutes. The first 15 minutes is sort of a warm-up. I show slides of famous artistic nudes for the class to sketch. I found that gets them a bit more loosened up than just throwing them straight in to drawing with a live model.”

Finn nodded. That explained the projector.

“During the warm-up, you’ll be back here, presumably undressed and wearing your robe. There’re a bunch on the door hook in the powder room,” she said. “About five minutes before the warm-up period ends, I’ll come get you and you’ll take your place on the dais. I’ll introduce you to the class, tell them what I’m expecting as far as their work for the evening, and some other odds and ends. Then, I’ll ask you to drop your robe, and that will signal the official start of class.”

He wet his lips nervously, suddenly reminded of those old movies where the dropping of a handkerchief signaled the start of a fast and dangerous car race that usually ended with someone being crushed all to fuck and a bunch of unnaturally beautiful people in tears.

“The first half-hour will be standing poses. Ten minutes per, so three poses total. Oh, I should ask – do you mind if I touch you?”

Finn’s eyes went wide. _That_ was … not the question he’d been expecting.

“Uh, sorry?”

“Above the waist only.” She raised her hands, palms up, in a gesture of reassurance. “It’s just sometimes it’s easier to sort of guide models into the poses I want rather than waste time in telling them how to hold themselves and then leaving them to figure it out themselves. But I respect that people may not want strangers touching them, so I always ask first. I can choose less-complicated poses if there’s an issue.”

“Oh.” Finn blew out a breath. “Right. Okay. Yeah … I mean, no, I don’t mind.”

“Great. If I need you to stand a certain way or move your feet, I’ll just tell you, but generally it won’t be anything too complex,” she went on. “After the first half hour, there’s a 15-minute break for people to use the restroom, get water, stretch their legs, and so on. That goes for you, too. You’ll need to put your robe on – it’s school policy – and come back here for that time.”

“I _have_ to?” Finn’s brow webbed. “I can’t go outside to grab a soda or anything?”

“Sure, you can do that if you want, but if you decide to spend your break inside, you have to do it here.” Rey looked faintly embarrassed. “It’s another policy. We discourage any interaction between models and students during the class. Obviously, if you see someone you know, that’s different, but Director Plutt – he runs the school – just felt that sequestering the model from the students would cut down on any ... misunderstandings. Along the same lines, we ask that you don’t maintain eye contact with any one student. We’ve cautioned the students not to do that with models, either. In class, there has to be a healthy distance between model and artist.”

Finn nodded again. So this was the “eye-contact” thing to which Poe had alluded. He could imagine the type of “misunderstandings” that could arise if someone who had just been stark naked a moment before started chatting up a student, or vice-versa.

He wondered if Poe had ever gotten more than a passing glance from anyone in these classes. Finn thought he probably had, but he probably hadn’t acted on anything. It hadn’t been very long since Poe and Jessika had decided to cool things off, and Poe really wasn’t the hook-up type. Plus, Poe seemed to take his side-job far too seriously to treat it so lightly.

“If you decide to stay here, you’ll have the run of this place.” She waved her hand around her office. “You can use the bathroom, listen to music, relax with your phone, read – whatever makes you feel comfortable. There’s bottled water and some small snacks in the bottom drawer. No soda, though, but there’s a vending machine in the basement that works … occasionally. Sometimes during break, a student will ask me to critique something for their semester-end portfolio, but mostly I just catch up on paperwork. I can do that somewhere else if my being back here would bother you.”

Finn’s eyes roamed the space and he considered the level of awkwardness that might exist being in such close proximity to a person who had just spent a half hour seeing him naked from pretty much every possible angle, and not for medical or memorial purposes.

“I don’t want to boot you out of your own office,” he hedged. “Would it bother _you_ if I were listening to music or anything?”

“Nope. That’s generally what Poe does when he’s back here. I think it helps him stay in the zone.” Rey grinned a little. “Though sometimes we’ll chat about Formula One. He's really into it.”

 _That_ was an understatement. Finn wasn’t really fond of watching cars go around in circles really, _really_ fast, but Poe, being the automotive whiz he was, was really into anything that involved cars. He’d actually entertained becoming a professional race car driver in his youth – before he discovered that designing and restoring fancy, expensive vehicles was only slightly less lucrative and infinitely less dangerous.

“Are you a fan?”

“Of Formula 1?” Finn shook his head. “Not really. You said you and Poe talk about it - you're a fan?”

“Yep. Pretty big-time. It’s sort of a family thing. My uncle was on Jim Crawford’s F1 team the year he won the British Championship,” said Rey with a fond smile of reminiscence. “When I was younger, I spent summers with my aunt and uncle, and I used to build my own racers out of spare parts. The first ones barely ran, but by the time I was headed to university, I’d built a couple that weren’t bad. Not league-standard or anything, but not complete garbage.”

“Wow. You’ve actually built cars from scratch? That’s pretty awesome.” Finn paused. “You and Poe have a lot in common.”

Finn wasn’t sure why, but he felt a sudden spike of jealousy. He was reasonably sure nothing was going on between Poe and Rey – Poe definitely would have mentioned something. And even if there were something going on, it wasn’t as if it were any of his business.

But still …

“Well, we both build vehicles, like them, and drive them. We actually don’t really talk all that much, but when we do, it’s typically about cars and racing.” She lifted a shoulder. “Anyway, feel free to ignore me if I’m back here and you want to just decompress.”

Finn’s eyes flicked briefly up and down. _Ignore_ her? Ignore _her?_ Not likely. Maybe even not possible.

“After break, we go straight into the second part of the class,” Rey said. “You’ll be in seated or reclining positions for this part – it’s a lot more comfortable, and I’m going to be using the chaise today so you’ll get to put your feet up a little, at least. You’ll do three poses then, too. The second half usually flies by – I’m always surprised how quickly we get to the final posture. Toward the end, I talk a little about what we’ll be doing next class, and that’s that. Oh, and the class usually thanks the model. By clapping.”

Her mouth curved into a grin. “I can stall a little bit while you get back into your robe for that part. It can be a little weird to get applause while you’re naked.”

“Well … won’t I be getting applause more or less _because_ I was naked?”

Rey’s laughed. “Point taken. After we wrap up, you head back here and get back into your clothes. There’s always a student or two who has a question after class, but that never takes too long – I’ll still make sure you have plenty of time to get dressed. You’ll get your fee, and that’s the end of the evening. Poe did mention it was an immediate cash payment?”

“Yeah, he did.”

“That doesn’t bother you, does it?”

“Hell no.” Finn’s forehead creased. “Does getting paid bother _anybody_?”

“Getting paid _in cash_ does.” She shifted on the desk, “I’m not sure why. Maybe it’s the concept of showing your body and then being compensated then and there. I suppose that holds certain associations with some people, but it’s not like this is sex work or anything. And, there’s nothing even remotely wrong with sex work, _or_ with getting paid in cash for that, so I really don’t get it.”

Finn shrugged. He didn’t, either.

“Director Plutt insists on cash only. He says it’s less bookkeeping, and since I’m the one balancing the books, he doesn’t have to pay me overtime.”

There was a slightly bitter edge to her voice, but her expression was neutral as she asked, “So … any questions? I know I’ve thrown a lot at you, but it really is pretty simple once we get started. It pretty much all boils down to: Once you strip down, just relax and let me take care of the rest.”

“I think I can definitely handle _that_.”

He’d meant it in a light-hearted way, but Rey’s double take gave him pause. She gazed at him for a moment and he thought he saw a slight hint of pink in her cheeks.

Finn gulped and tried not squirm.

_Was that creepy? Am I being super fucking creepy right now? And if I am being creepy right now, what’s going to happen when I go out there?_

“Good,” said Rey. Her face still looked slightly flushed, but she was smiling again. “No questions?”

“Are you an artist? Professionally,” he said hurriedly, fearing that the question might be a bit stupid. Would a non-artist be teaching an art class, after all? “Other than teaching here, I mean.”

“Actually, I’m a graphic artist. Freelance, mainly. Teaching fills in the spaces between assignments and commissions,” she said. “I teach a few courses on 3D modeling at Coruscant Community College in addition to the two nights a week I spend here.”

Finn mulled that. CCC was a nice enough place, but hardly fancy – and a pretty far cry from the stately mahogany and marble of CAAS. For Rey to have made that giant leap forward at such a young age, she had to be pretty fucking talented. He was impressed.

“How did you end up teaching here? I mean, CCC is great, but this is in another league.”

Rey paused a moment. “It’s a long story.”

From her expression, Finn guessed it wasn’t exactly a pleasant one.

She glanced at her watch again. “Other questions?”

A tinge of coolness had crept in her voice, and Finn reckoned it was best to get off _that_ subject. If her boss truly was a “dickcheese,” as Poe had mentioned and as Rey herself had indicated, Finn figured that the less said about her working life, the better.

“Yeah, I did have one question,” said Finn. “In this class, people are going to be mainly looking at my … uhm … front, right?”

Rey lifted a brow. “Well … _mainly_. Most of the poses I use _are_ frontal attitudes. Is that a problem?”

“No, it’s just …” He took a breath. “I don’t know if Poe mentioned this to you, but, uh, I have a scar on my back. A really big one.”

“Oh.” She gave him a speculative look. “Accident?”

“No, I was in the service. The Army,” he clarified. “I was over in Kandahar. I got … injured.” He glanced away. “Anyway, I wasn’t sure if that mattered or not.”

He looked back at her, mildly surprised to see that Rey didn’t have what he called the “sympathy squint” – that crinkle at the corners of the eyes that seemed to blend sadness with pity. He’d seen that expression all too often since being discharged – from doctors, well-wishers, friends, co-workers.

Finn knew that he shouldn’t be so annoyed by it. People really did feel horrible when they saw or learned of the scar and the circumstances that led him to being marked in that way – but he was, and he was gratified that Rey wasn’t looking at him as if he were some sort of sweet, tragically damaged puppy.

“No, it doesn’t matter. This is a study of artistic anatomy, that’s all. I don’t expect students to draw in scars, birthmarks, freckles, tattoos, piercings or anything like that. Some will do it just to show off, but most don’t.”

“Oh. Okay.” He hesitated. “It’s just, um, sometimes people get caught off-guard when they first see it. It’s healed, but it’s a little raw-looking. I just wanted to let you know ahead of time, just in case you want to warn your students or … something.”

Rey started to speak but halted, gnawing her bottom lip for a few seconds.

“There’re a couple of things I could do if you feel self conscious about your scar. I can pose you in three-quarter view facing away. You’d be drawn in profile, with only a hint of your back showing. Or, during warm-ups, I could tell the class that our substitute model is a war veteran who is injured and has a significant scar on his back that they can choose to depict or not in their work. Or I could do both.”

“Whatever you think is best,” said Finn, almost wishing he hadn’t brought it up. He didn’t want Rey to feel restricted in her teaching. “I’m not so much self-conscious about the scar as I am kinda hyperaware about other people’s reactions to it. It’s pretty hard to look at. I don’t want to mess up anybody’s concentration, if that makes any sense.”

“It makes sense.” Her voice was soft. “And I’m not going to pretend that some people in the class wouldn’t react strongly. But that’s not _your_ problem. Finn, it’s theirs – and by extension, it’s mine. I want to make sure you’re completely comfortable up there.”

He looked at her, and was reassured by her expression. No nervous smiling, no faux pose of care and concern that would drop the moment his clothes did. Her words belied a quiet sincerity. She may have been speaking flippantly when she’d said that once he was naked, she’d take care of everything else, but he could see that Rey was utterly serious.

“Okay,” said Finn, striving for nonchalance, not wanting to say something that might come out a lot sappier than he intended. “Cool. Thanks.”

“Talking about comfort brings me another important policy we have here,” said Rey. “This is a safe space, and it goes both ways. I know that nude art classes have become sort of a trope for romcom movies and TV shows …”

They smiled at each other.

“… But the reality is a lot more boring and regimented. These classes are the only ones as CAAS that aren’t drop-ins, and there are prerequisites. You have to work hard and show you're ready to get into this course. The students in this class may not aspire to artistic careers, but they’re skilled and they’re here to learn and improve their craft, not to objectify a stranger and get a thrill looking at a naked person for an hour.”

Finn noted that Rey didn’t say _cheap_ thrill. Poe hadn’t been kidding about those semester fees, apparently.

“As model – you have every right to expect professionalism and sincerity from the students here. If at any time you feel uncomfortable or believe that someone in the class is giving you attention not of an … _artistic_ nature, then wave me over, tell me, and I’ll take care of it.”

The quietly menacing way Rey said that last part sold him. He would _not_ want to be on her bad side. Ever.

“Additionally, you’re getting paid, yes, but your presence is completely voluntary,” she said, “and depends on continual consent. You can revoke that consent at any time. This is not an easy job; some people feel that they can do it, and realize they can’t once they’re up there and the robe is off. That’s perfectly okay – if for any reason you don’t want to continue, tell me and I’ll stop class then and there. You can come back here, get dressed and leave. There’s a door that leads right into the hallway from here, so you won’t have to see the students again if you don’t want to.”

She indicated a space to the left of the desk that was in shadow and that Finn barely noticed.

“If you modeled at least 15 minutes, you’ll get a pro-rated amount. Those are the only fees we can pay by check if you don’t feel comfortable sticking around for the cash. Director Plutt didn’t want to pay out even for that amount of time, but if you lasted 15 minutes, that means one pose, and I think you should get _something_.”

Finn nodded his agreement. He was beginning to think that “dickcheese” was much too nice a term for this Director Plutt person.

“Now, all _that_ being said, this is a safe space for the students, too.”

Rey turned her face toward the ceiling and sighed softly before dropping her gaze to meet Finn’s eyes.

“So, we need to talk about what happens if you get an erection.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My heart goes out to my LGBT fam at this time of mourning.


End file.
